Hemophilia
by RetsuKaji
Summary: The story of a young mutant trying to cope with her powers, but she faces that age old question every mutant faces. Fight for good or evil? And two very different men try to sway her decision.
1. I'm Sick of Being a Freak

I've redone this story a little! Not too much is different, though :) Enjoy!

* * *

"So, tell me, when did you discover your powers?"

"Oh, bloody hell, that was a nightmare."

"Your family freak when they found out?"

"My family wasn't surprised, actually. Having raised one mutant already," the young woman replied.

"Oh, right. I forgot about him," he said.

Wolverine, or Logan as most knew him, looked down at the outlandishly dressed female walking along side him.

She was reasonably tall for a girl, though her shoes were the credit for most of her height. She had six inch platform shoes on. She wore a pair of fitted grey camo pants. Her shirt was a bit more normal. A bit. It was a tank top. Solid in the front, but the back was a series of three thick straps. The shirt was black and decorated with grey gear prints.

Her skin was pale, yet healthy looking. Her hair was bright blue and tied up in two ponytails. Her eyes were blue with green specks here and there. She was a pretty young woman, Logan would admit. She had a sort of..childish look to her, but with the way she talked and acted, she was far from a child.

"Well, come on, kid. Out with it. How did you discover your powers?" he asked.

She took in a slow breath as they headed outside. They wandered onto the grass, then over to the fountain.

"I was twelve. I was heading out of my room. I had just gotten my first pair of platforms and I wanted to show my best mate. As I left the room, I tripped over myself. These aren't easy to walk in, after all. I stumbled, tripped, and slammed my face off of the table in the hallway," she said, glancing to Logan, "I screamed for my mum because my nose started bleeding. When she got to me, I remember feeling woozy, then my body just...exploded."

"Into a scary, disgusting blood monster?" Logan asked with a smirk.

His smirk didn't stay very long, though. He looked to her. She didn't look happy at all. She almost looked like she was going to cry.

"Ameila, I...come on. I didn't mean it," he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

She shook her head and sniffled lightly.

Ameila's powers were rare. They didn't have another like her at their school. She had control over blood. She could turn herself and everything on her body into blood at her whim. She could pool into a puddle and move around. She could bleed uncontrollably and not die. Clot her blood no matter how large the wound. She also had the power to manipulate flesh. So after clotting the blood of a wound, she could close said wound. She could also mold flesh to look like whatever she wanted. She could make herself look however she wanted. She could also play around with other people's faces if she really wanted to, though those effects didn't last quite as long.

"Mei, you know you're not a monster," Logan said, "None of us are. Don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise."

"No, you see, that's just it. I am a monster. We're all monsters. It's not about that. It's about using your freak abilities for good, right?" she asked sarcastically.

Logan cursed himself and rolled his eyes. He should have known better. Because of the fact that her powers were so rare, Mei often complained that she was too different. Not just different from humans, but different from mutants as well. She was very sensitive about her powers for how she was treated concerning them.

"You're not a freak," he said, sighing.

"Oh, come off it! I'm a freak amongst my own kind, Logan! Dun' try to tell me dif'rent!" she snapped.

Ameila turned sharply and began to storm away.

"Wood, get back here!" Logan yelled.

She stopped and turned, but didn't come back.

"I'm sick of being a freak, Logan! I just wanna be normal!" she yelled, turning again.

He grumbled, but didn't go after her. She pissed him off a lot. Perhaps she wasn't as grown up as he thought. She was still stuck in that phase. That phase where you crave being normal.

But Hemophilia was far from normal.

It all started one month ago...

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it! Ameila/Hemophilia is a character I created for the game Heroes Unlimited.


	2. Trapped in a Cabinet!

Ameila was singing a song to herself that she had heard on her favorite show.

"Trapped in a cabinet, trapped in a cabinet! Can he get out? Will he get out? Course he will!" she sang.

She sang that particular song because that was where she was. Sort of. She was in a locked closet. A few particularly cruel students had ambushed her on the way to class and pushed her into the closet, which locked upon closing.

Ameila waited a long while before finally deciding to exit the closet in a most unusual fashion. She inspected the floor for debris, water, or chemicals. Surprisingly, she found none. Slowly, she pooled into a puddle on the floor. Slowly oozing her way under the door, she pooled on the other side and quickly reformed her body to its original form. With a quick glance down either side of the hall, she jumped up and headed toward her first class. It was all the way on the other side of the school, according to the paper she had.

Only...she never made it to her class.

Upon passing the main offices, she was stopped by the principal of her new school.

"Ah! Miss Wood! I was just looking for you!" he said kindly.

"There's someone here to see you, kiddo. Just go on into the office and have a seat," he said, pointing her in the direction of the office. She was quite bewildered, but she nodded. She glanced to the door, looking to the rather odd looking group entering it. She headed into the office without a fuss.

There were several others in the office. A girl and two boys. She had seen them around the school once or twice. She didn't say anything to them and they said nothing to her. She pulled her bag off of her shoulder and set it on the floor in front of the chair she plopped down in.

The Principal walked into the office and looked at them all. A bald man in a wheelchair, wearing a suit, followed him. Following the bald man was a black woman, a tall man with dark sunglasses, and a shorter, scruffier looking man. The black woman looked kindly and nice. She had white hair, oddly, and warm, inviting eyes. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black button up blouse. The brown haired man was dressed similarly. Black slacks, black button up. The third male looked nothing like the other three. He was in heavy black boots, blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He looked like a beefed up Fonzie. He had outrageous sideburns as well.

Ameila bit her lip to avoid laughing at his appearance. Not that she thought he was funny looking, just odd compared to the others he was with.

Principal Smith faced her.

"Miss. Wood, please step into my office," he said, smiling to her.

She gulped quietly and picked up her bag. She stepped into a decent sized office and took a seat. The five adults followed her. Smith sat at his desk, of course. The bald man positioned himself next to the desk, facing her and the other three just sort of stood off to his side. She glanced around at them, then looked to Smith.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I? Is this about being late to class yesterday and today? Cause I have an excuse! These huge guys just sort of...picked me up! I swear! And put me in a closet!" she said, holding her hands up in a defensive manner. Three of the four strangers laughed lightly. The scruffy one didn't.

"No, no, Miss Wood, you aren't in trouble. And I will need the names of those boys," he said, turning very serious. Ameila dropped her hands slowly into her lap.

"I dun' know their names but, wif' all due respect, sir, why am I here?" she asked.

"I believe the Professor can answer that," he said, motioning to the man in the wheelchair. Ameila looked to him, knitting her brow in confusion.

"Good day, Miss Wood. My name is Charles Xavier," she heard inside her mind.

She jumped up and backed against the wall, which was only a step away from the chair. She put her hands out in defense.

"Whoa! Cool it, there, Sylvia Browne! I dun' take kindly to people just...jumping in my head like that!" she said, alarmed, but not as much as she thought she should be, "Not that I've ever had..someone jump in my head."

He only let out a small laugh.

"Pardon me for startling you. It was the best way, I believe, that I could break it to you that we're just like you," he said.

"What? English?" she asked, smiling nervously.

"No, dear. Mutants," the black woman said, "My name is Storm. This is Scott and Logan."

"Mutants? Really?" she asked, taking a small breath, "What do you want wif' me?"

"Well, you're a mutant, ain'tcha?" the scruffy one asked.

"How the hell do you know that?" she asked, "I never told anyone outside my family and my best mate."

"We have ways of knowing, Miss Wood. When you arrived in this country, we were alerted to your power," Professor Xavier said.

"Plus, you just told us," the scruffy one said, smirking.

She opened her mouth to make a come back, but quickly backed down when she saw the glare on his face. She looked to the silent, seemingly blind one, then to Storm, then to Professor Xavier.

"Well, what do you want wif' me? You aren't gonna lock me up, are you?" she asked.

"Of course not!" Storm said, smiling kindly.

"We're here to make you an offer," Scott said.

"...Like?"

"We want to invite you to attend our school. You will learn along side children just like you. You will learn to control your powers and use them for good," Professor Xavier said.

She weighed this option in her mind for a moment, then shook her head.

"My power's no use to you. It's not that fantastic. Just gross," she said, leaning down to pick up her bag.

"What can you do?" Scott asked.

She looked back to them, setting her bag on her chair. She looked to them one by one, settling on Principal Smith. She sighed heavily.

"Do any of you have hemophobia?" she asked, her voice quiet.

They all answered no. She heaved a sigh again. She looked to the windows and nodded when she saw the blinds were closed. She moved the chairs back as far as they would go and looked to Logan.

"Well, first, do you mind? I need some help," she said, offering a hand.

He looked to Professor Xavier.

"Please, Logan," he said, motioning to Ameila.

He grunted and grumbled, but stepped up to her. With no warning, she grabbed his sides and effortlessly lifted him into the hair. Her brow knit together and she looked over his body while she held him up.

"How much do you weigh?" she asked.

"Aren't you not supposed to ask a person that?" he asked, glaring at her.

"No, you're not supposed to ask a woman that. Spill it," she said.

"Three hundred pounds, kid. Now put me down," he growled threateningly. She put him down at once.

"Super human strength. Is that it, child?" Storm asked.

She shook her head as Logan stepped away from her.

Ameila stood still and wiggled her nose lightly. Blood began to drip out of her nose. Slowly at first, then steadily faster until it was like a running tap.

"Aw, kid, that's disgusting," Logan grumbled.

"It may be, but I've gotten out of a lot of tests this way," she said.

She figured that was quite enough and with no warning, her entire body became blood. A human shaped mass of blood. She released her body, though and pooled onto the floor. She waited a few seconds, then reformed into the basic human shape, then returned to her normal self. No sight of blood anywhere. She cracked her neck.

"My god. That was...interesting," Scott said. Ameila started to feel uncomfortable.

"I'm not finished," she sighed. She turned to Principal Smith, "Pardon me, sir."

She held her hands up and concentrated on him. His arms began to twitch violently, then raised up above his head. His fingers curled and uncurled as if he was counting back and forth from one to ten, then ten to one. She released him a moment later.

"I used to practice that on my best friend till I got it right. I used to have to clot the blood in his face often. He'd end up punching himself a lot," she smiled and shook her head as she remembered.

She clapped her hands together and rubbed them furiously. She then put her hands on her own face and gently pushed. She was moving things around. She played around until she had basically sunken the skin in so much she looked like a skeleton. Then she merely wiped her hands over her face and it was gone. She shook her head back and forth lightly and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It makes me dizzy sometimes," she said, dropping her hand.

"Those are very interesting powers, Miss Wood. Why would you think they're no good?" Professor Xavier asked.

"Well," she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then slowly opened them and looked to him, "I'm not great on offense, am I? All I can do is avoid being hit. Which, in my opinion, is kind of selfish, no?"

"That's what you can learn at our school. As where we do not condone fighting of any kind, we must do it sometimes, to protect others. We can teach you how to use your powers in an offensive manner. So that you may protect more than just yourself," he said.

Ameila stood still for a long while considering this. She stared at the floor, trying to weigh the options equally, but she just couldn't see things their way.

Ameila was the kind of person to use her powers only to mess with people's heads. She couldn't see herself in some crazy, star spangled outfit with a cape, busting up bank robbers and saving the day. She just couldn't see anyone wanting to be saved by a girl who turned herself into a nasty blood creature. But she never saw herself as one to truly terrorize someone with her powers either. She just wanted to have a little harmless fun and live as normally as possible.

She looked to Smith.

"And you're alright with this? I mean...you're awfully calm for a man with five mutants in his office," she said.

"I, unlike most, have accepted that mutants live in our society. They go to my school. They live in my neighborhood. It's a part of life. The others, out there, in the office, I discovered using their powers the other day. When the Professor arrived, I honestly wasn't surprised. He tried to conceal the real reason behind his visit, but I saw right through him," Smith said, giving Professor Xavier a friendly smile.

Ameila let out a slow breath. She chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed. She looked back to them and picked up her bag. She swung it over her head and onto her shoulder.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I don't want to live like a freak," she said.

Ameila went to the door and went to leave, but she felt someone grab the back of her shirt.

"Hey, kid, we're not done yet," Logan said.

Ameila grumbled and let herself fall into a bloody puddle. She moved slightly to the right and reformed. She turned to him.

"I will drag the blood from your body if you touch me again," she grumbled. She grabbed the door handle before he could say anything and pulled the door open angrily. She let it slam against the wall and walked out of the office.

Something told her not to look back at him, lest she want to wet herself. She hurried out of the office and towards the doors.

Without thinking about it, she left the school entirely. She walked calmly off of the grounds and headed in the general direction of her house. She was going to get in trouble for leaving school grounds and she knew it, but at the moment she didn't care.

She just wanted to go home and be normal.


	3. What a Stubborn Little Ass

That afternoon, around the time school was letting out, Ameila finally decided she was hungry.

When she had arrived home,(and startled her mother) she had stormed up the stairs just to the right of the front door and went straight to her room. She locked the door, changed into comfortable clothing and crawled into bed. Her clothing consisted of a pair of black pants with a few zipper details and a black tank top. She had headphones on, blasting techno music to drown out the sound of the knocking on her door. She laid there, reading comic books to pass the time, but she finally decided it was time to eat.

She turned her mp3 player off and set her headphones aside. She sat up and set the comic she was holding on her bed. She picked up her plain black, short sleeved hoodie and pulled it on. She crossed the room to her door and unlocked it. When she opened it, she was surprised to hear multiple voices coming from downstairs.

Ameila went slowly down the stairs, trying not to alert anyone to her presence. She rounded the corner and went quietly down the hall. She leaned against the wall, just out of sight of the people in the kitchen.

But they were quiet suddenly. She waited a long moment, wondering if she'd been caught.

"Kid, I can smell you from a mile away. Just come in here," she heard.

She sighed heavily and went into the kitchen. Logan and Storm were there. Her parents were sitting on one side of the kitchen island and they were seated on the other side. Ameila sighed again and went to the cabinets. She opened them and started digging through without a word.

"So, are you going to listen to us now, kid?" Logan asked.

"Just go away. You already have my answer," she said.

"Darling, listen to them. They're offering something great. It would be good for you," her mother said.

She grumbled.

"They're offering me a chance to live amongst other mutants. Today, some jerks pushed me in a closet just for being a foreigner. Imagine what they would have done if they knew I was a mutant. They would have slit my throat or something," she said.

"Speaking of that, kid, why didn't you use your power to save yourself? Sure, you didn't get hurt, but you could have easily beaten them off," Logan said.

"And not that slitting your throat would do any good, it seems. Couldn't you have just stopped the blood flow and closed the wound?" Storm asked.

Ameila shook her head and sighed. She pulled out a granola bar, finally settling on that. Her appetite was quickly retreating. She then went to the fridge after closing the cabinets. She pulled out some grapes and went to wash them. She got a colander out and set it in the sink. She dumped the grapes into it and gave them a quick wash. She dumped them into another bowl and picked it up.

"I'm not going," she said simply.

"Awh, will you just suck it up already? Most mutants your age are passed the whole 'I'm a freak' stage. By now they want to learn more about themselves," Logan grumbled.

Ameila growled, gripping the glass bowl so hard it broke, driving shards of glass into her hand. She pulled open the drawer where the trash bin was with her empty and uninjured hand and slammed the loose contents down into the bin. She slammed it shut with such force, the wood cracked and split.

Her mother rushed to her side to assist with her hand, but she gently pushed her away. She leaned over the sink and started pulling the glass out of her hand. She used her abilities of blood and flesh control to push the pieces she couldn't reach out, then forcefully clotted the blood and closed the wounds. Despite there being no blood on her hands, she washed them anyway. She then went to cleaning the glass off of the floor. When she was finished, she stood and looked at the two mutant adults.

"I want nothing to do wif' you or your bullshit school!" she yelled.

"Ameila Mackenzie!" her mother snapped.

"Ouch. You got the middle name, kid," Logan said.

"Shut up, fatass," she snapped at him.

His eyes went wide and he looked to her parents.

"...Did she just call me 'fatass'?" he asked.

He glanced over his shoulder at his behind, then looked back to her.

"Ameila, that's enough! Sit down and talk with them! Please! You have no idea what they're all about!" her father yelled. She knew she should have obeyed him, but she shook her head and left the room.

"Come back here, young lady!" she heard him yell.

She heard a couple of the chairs move across the floor and she quickened pace. She turned and made to go up the stairs, but she was stopped dead in her tracks when she felt someone yank on the back of her hoodie. She made a choked noise and looked over her shoulder to see Logan there.

"I'm not done talking to you, kid," he grumbled.

"Well, I'm not talking to you!" she said, making to pull away from him. He caught her arm and gripped hard.

"Kid, will you atleast come look at the school? Talk to the other kids? I bet if you did, you'd change your mind, ya stubborn ass," he growled.

She grumbled as well and fell into a puddle. She reformed and turned to him.

"What did I say about touching me?" she asked.

"Shut it, girly. So what do you say?" he asked, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.

She groaned.

"If I go and have a look 'round and I still don't want to go, will you leave me alone?" she asked.

"Sure thing. If you somehow still manage to be a stubborn, spoiled little ass, I will leave you alone," he said with the faintest smirk.

She heaved a sigh.

"Fine. When?"

"How about today? All you were doing was laying in your room acting like your dog died," he said, shrugging lightly.

She would have snapped a comeback at him, but it seemed he had a response for everything. She just jogged up the stairs and got her shoes. They weren't quite as large as the others, though.

She bid her parents good-bye and left the house with the two mutants. She got into the back of the car and buckled herself in without a word. Storm, whom hadn't said anything for a while got into the passenger seat, leaving Logan to drive. She smirked, keeping her eyes focused on the window.

"Wow, shorty, you can see over the steering wheel?" she asked sarcastically.

"Keep it up, kid. I'll drag you out of the car and teach you a thing or two," he threatened.

"Logan," Storm warned, looking to him.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," he grumbled, starting the car.

They drove off down the street and away from her home.

During the drive, which was neither long nor short, Ameila answered all of Storm's questions with as little words as possible. She ignored Logan entirely. He was starting to really grate her last nerve with all his small comments. Several times, she had the thought of slamming his face onto the steering wheel, but she decided against it. She'd put herself and Storm in danger. She didn't want to do that.

When they arrived at the school, the got out of the car and looked around.

There were a few kids outside. Some looked younger than she was, some older. She slid her hands into her pockets slowly.

Logan gently nudged her, indicating that she should follow Storm. She did so slowly, looking around as she walked.

When the three got inside, Storm turned to them.

"I'm going to tell the Professor that she's agreed to have a look around. In the mean time, show her around, please," she said.

She left before either could protest. They looked at each other and glared.

"First thing's first, kid, I don't particularly like you. So don't give me any trouble," he warned.

"Or you'll what? Bite at me knee caps?" she snapped.

He turned fully and balled his hands into fists. In the blink of an eye, claws burst out of his hands, in between his knuckles. Three claws per hand. She gasped and took a step back.

"No, I'll use these on ya," he threatened.

Ameila wasn't sure if he was truly serious or not, but she'd rather not find out the hard way. She raised her hands in defeat.

"Alright, I'll be good," she said, sighing, "I promise."

He nodded and the claws retracted back into his hands. He put a hand on her back, in between her shoulder blades. He pushed her gently along.

"Let's go have a talk with some other kids, eh?" he said.

Ameila walked with him down the hall. It was very...homey here. As they walked along, her anger and bitterness started to melt away. She could see herself walking down these halls every day.

That thought frightened her. She didn't want to like this place. She wanted to stay at home and live like a normal girl. Well, as normal as could be.

She now had a very difficult decision to make.


	4. I Should'a Taken Bets

Ameila moved awkwardly along side Logan down the hall. She didn't say anything, she just took in her surroundings. There weren't many students about at the moment. Logan said most were probably still in class of some kind. She just nodded and continued on with him.

Logan took her to a small study room where a few students were gathered. There was a girl with brown hair and a white stripe in the front. A boy with brown hair was seated next to her. There was another male, but Ameila was unsure if it was boy or man. He was a lot bigger than the others in the room.

"Hey, kids, this is Ameila," Logan said.

They turned to them and mumbled greetings. Ameila gave a half assed wave.

"Ameila, this is Rogue, Bobby, and Peter," he said, pointing to each of them as he said their names.

"You're new?" Rogue asked, smiling lightly.

"Yeah, sort of," Ameila said.

"Ameila is being a giant ass pain. She can't decide whether or not she wants to go here, so she's taking a tour," Logan said.

Ameila would have snapped back, but he pushed her over to a chair and pushed her by her shoulders down into it.

"Tell her about the school," Logan said. And with that, left the room.

Ameila suddenly felt very small and alone. She looked at the others and set her hands in her lap. She twisted them together awkwardly.

"So, Ameila, what can you do?" Bobby asked with a small smile.

"Blood and flesh manipulation. As well as super human strength," she said, nodding lightly, "You?"

"Ice powers. I can do a lot of different stuff with ice," he said.

"Neat. You?" she said, looking to Rogue.

"I can absorb other mutants' powers. Which is why I can't touch anyone unless I want to hurt them," she said kind of sadly.

Ameila nodded lightly, figuring she'd save her questions for later. Or perhaps she'd ask someone else entirely. It seemed that Rogue wasn't proud of her powers either. She looked to Peter, then.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I cun turn my 'ole body to st'ill," he said, giving her a wide smile.

She smiled as well and nodded.

"Cool. And let me guess. German?" she asked. He smile again and shook his head.

"Russian," he said. She snapped her fingers.

"Damn. Oh well," she shrugged lightly.

"Where are you from?" Bobby asked.

"London, England, but I only live a stone's throw from here," she said, "I moved here a month ago."

"Big change. How come you moved all the way over here?" Rogue asked.

"I'm not sure. I think 'cause my mother wanted out of the house. After my brother disappeared, she couldn't be there anymore," she said, looking down.

"Oh, I'm sorry for bringing it up," Rogue said.

Ameila waved her off.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm not bent all ou' of shape about it. He left because he's a right tit," she said, shrugging, "He's a mutant, too. He's another that thinks he should rule the world 'cause of it."

"Still, that's gotta be rough," Bobby said. She shrugged again.

"I still have my little sister, so, I don't really think about him. Not tha' I don't love him, I just don't think about him very often," she said.

They nodded.

"So your families just sent you here? To learn?" she asked.

"I'm a run away. Sort of just...ended up here, thanks to Logan," Rogue said.

"My parents think I'm at a prep school," Bobby said.

"I vas asked to attend," Peter said.

Ameila nodded lightly. She looked at all of them for a long moment. They were happy and if not happy, they were content, it seemed. They liked it here. Ameila leaned back in the chair and took a slow breath.

"Why don't you wanna live here, Ameila?" Bobby asked.

Ameila sighed lightly and looked down.

"I dunno. I'm not..okay wif' my powers, really," she said.

"Not okay with your powers?" Rogue asked. Ameila thought she sounded a bit offended.

"I mean when I was at home, I nearly lost my best mate just because I was a mutant. I've been hiding it ever since. And all of a sudden, the Professor shows up with his team of mutants and says 'Come out of the closet, ya freak'," she said, sighing, "It's a little much."

"Firstly, you're not a freak. You're gifted. We aren't partial to the word freak around here. And secondly, we're not out in the open. We've just come to a place where we can learn to control our powers," Rogue said.

Ameila nodded lightly, but she was sick of everyone saying she wasn't a freak. She was a freak and she knew it. That's not what bothered her. It was the general public that worried her.

"This school offers a lot of benefits. You should live here with us. It's a lot easier than living out there," Bobby said, thumbing toward the window.

Ameila sat and talked with them about nearly everything under the sun. Books, television, movies, powers, funny stories, you name it. Somehow, it came up. She was really enjoying herself. In between all that, they went to have dinner with the other students, then returned to talk. The second half was devoted to them telling Ameila what she could benefit from at the school.

But all too soon, it was over.

Logan strolled into the room and cleared his throat.

"C'mon, kid, I gotta take ya home," he said.

Ameila nodded and stood, picking up her hoodie, which she had shed before dinner. She pulled it on and waved to the three as she left. She kept her eyes down, trying to generate hatred for this place, but it was no use.

She heard a female android voice in her head say, 'Hatred Levels Depleted, Captain. Releasing Joy and Excitement Valve in Three. Two.'

'God, I'm a nerd,' she thought.

"So what do you think so far?" Logan asked.

Ameila heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Alright, so it's not as bad as I thought," she said.

"Told ya so," Logan said. He snapped his fingers suddenly, "Shoulda' taken a bet or something."

"Very funny, short stuff. I haven't said yes, have I? I wanna talk it over with my folks first," she said.

"Fair enough, smart ass, they like the idea. Better pack your stuff when you get home," he said.

"We'll see, sir, we'll see," she said.

"I heard you guys talking in there. You have a brother?" he asked.

"Had a brother. He's gone. No one knows where he is," she said.

"Oh. Sorry," he mumbled.

Ameila waved him off.

"Don't bother. I'm not sorry. He's a git," she said.

Logan nodded and just kept walking, Ameila practically jogging to keep up with his stride. He was short, but he moved quickly.

They went down to the garage and got in the car. Ameila didn't say anything at first.

"Your brother a mutant, too? I didn't catch if you said he was or not," Logan asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah, he is," she said.

"What can he do?"

"I know he can fly for sure. I think he uses fire, as well. I can't remember. It's been a while since he left," she said.

"He just up and left?" Logan asked.

"He thinks mutants are superior. That we shouldn't hide and all," she said, sighing, "He left when I was eleven. I don't even know if he knows I'm a mutant, too."

"Well, I imagine he'd be pleased to know. Since he thinks so highly of mutants," Logan said.

"Yeah, but I doubt he'd be happy that I don't think that way. I don't think either are better. I just want to live in a world where no one cares," she said.

Logan grumbled.

"Keep dreaming, kid," he said.

"I will, thank you," Ameila said, smirking.

For the rest of the ride, Ameila was pretty quite. She would chirp occasional answers to questions or tell him that traffic was clear on her side of the road. But she was using the rest of her time in the car to make a very big decision.

She was going to go to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters.


	5. I Know What You Are

Ameila was heading down the hall of her regular school, yawning heavily.

She had decided to go to the Institute, but she didn't start until the following Monday. It was Friday. She decided to finish up the week in regular school, then transfer. That gave her the weekend to finish packing and a chance to ready herself for a new lifestyle.

As she turned the corner to head upstairs for Advanced Health, she was stopped by three people. Familiar faces.

Ameila looked up at the three boys, recognizing them as three of the six that put her in a closet four days prior. She made to move passed them, but one moved in front of her. She heaved a sigh.

"Excuse me," she said. The hallway was empty practically and when the bell rang, those few other students bolted. She was gonna end up in another closet. She knew it.

"'Alo, Gov'na," one said. Ameila cringed at the horrible impersonation of her accent. She looked up to him and crossed her arms.

"Look, I just wanna get to class. I never did anything to piss you off, so move," she said.

"Nah, it's not that you pissed us off. It's cause you're a freak," the middle and tallest one said. His jacket had the name 'B. Sanders' written on it.

"What do you mean 'freak'?" Ameila asked, fearing the answer.

"You know! The way you dress and that funny accent," he said.

He nodded to the two other boys, whom promptly shot forward and grabbed Ameila's arms. They lifted her up so her feet were off the ground and began jogging down the hall. Ameila panicked and did the only thing she could think of. She let her eyes roll into the back of her head and she activated her powers. She began convulsing, just slightly at first, but more violently as they went on. Blood leaked from her nose and her eyes went bloodshot. The boys panicked and put her down on the floor.

"Oh, shit! Dude, get the nurse! We'll say we found her like this!" Sanders yelled.

She heard two of the boys take off, leaving Sanders. She calmed her body down until she was only mildly twitching. She laid still for a long moment, reabsorbing the blood from her nose bleed. She left it in her eyes and sat up, pushing more forth so it ran down her face like tears.

"Don't. Mess. With me," she said, saying the words slowly and deeply for a more dramatic effect.

Sanders took a few careful steps backwards.

"You really are a freak. ...You're one of _them_," he said.

Ameila reabsorbed the blood from her face and what had fallen onto her body. She slowly stood up. She looked down at her bag and made to pick it up.

Though, out of no where, she found herself on the floor again. She was on her stomach. She rolled over and looked up, her vision slightly blurry. Sanders was standing over her with a closed fist. Her eyes widened when the pain registered. He had punched her. She rolled onto her knees and attempted to get to her feet, but Sanders grabbed onto her hair. He pulled her to her feet and turned her around. Ameila couldn't believe this. She was going to get the piss beaten out of her. By a boy.

She didn't have time to shout before he punched her again. This time, she landed on her back. She looked up to him with teary, stinging eyes.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" was the only thing Ameila thought to yell.

When Sanders came at her again, she rolled back slightly and kicked out with both legs. He went flying and crashed into a row of lockers. He was still conscious, but barely so. The lockers were dented and broken. Doors all around opened up. Students and teachers flooded into the hallway. And there was Ameila, laying on the floor in the middle of it all, staring at them all.

Whispers started, then full blown outcries.

"She's a mutant! She has to be! How else could she throw him like that?"

"A mutant!"

"I saw them on tv! They kill people!"

"Kill people?"

"Kill it before it kills us!"

Ameila freaked. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her bag. She swung it up over her head and settled it onto her shoulder. She balled her hands into fists and readied herself.

"Anyone so much as touches me and they'll end up like him!" she yelled. She was more surprised than them at her threat.

"Easy now," she heard. She turned to see her English teacher, Mr. Buchanen, approaching.

"You don't want to hurt anyone, Ameila," he said.

"No, I don't!" she snapped.

"Then why did you?" he asked.

"He hit me first, I was protecting myself!" she yelled.

"Against an unarmed and weaker opponent?" he asked.

Ameila growled and straightened up. She cracked her neck a few times and wiggled her jaw back and forth. She felt pain still.

"Ameila, let's go get your face looked at, okay? You're bruising really badly," he said.

She tightened her jaw and absorbed the blood. There were a few gasps from the students.

"I'm fine," Ameila grumbled.

"Ameila, I...," Mr. Buchanen started, but he seemed at a loss for words.

Ameila turned and morphed her entire body into blood. The students gasped, a few screamed and moved back slightly.

"Move!" she growled.

They immediately pressed themselves against the wall as tightly as possible. Ameila turned back into her human form and took off at a dead run. She didn't stop for anyone or anything.

She ran out of the doors for the second time that week and took off in the general direction of home.

When she arrived, she explained what happened to her parents, then went up to her room to once again lay about.

That afternoon, the doorbell rang, followed by a harsh knocking on the front door.

Ameila stood and wandered to the door from the couch. She opened the door and Logan rushed in, causing her to jump back. He slammed the door behind him.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Your entire school is in an uproar! I went there to pick you up and the moment I mentioned your name, people started having a fit! They practically threatened to hang me just for looking for you!" he growled.

"I'm sorry!" she yelled, marching back to the living room.

"What the hell happened?" he growled, following her.

"They found out I was a mutant!" she yelled, turning into the kitchen instead. He still followed her.

"How?" he asked, suddenly very calm.

"Those jocks tried to put me in a closet again. I faked a seizure to get them to leave me alone. Then I threatened the bigger one and he flipped out," she said, sitting down at the island.

"What did he do? Cause a scene?" he asked.

"No, he hit me!" she yelled.

"He hit you?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Twice! In the face! When he came at me a third time, I kicked him. He hit the lockers pretty hard," she said.

"Then what happened?" he asked.

"People poured into the hall. They started calling me a mutant and threatened to kill me for it. So I got up and said that if anyone touched me, they'd end up like Sanders," she said, taking a breath, "My English teacher tried to talk me down, but he lost his nerve when I got rid of the massive bruises on my face."

Logan sat down across from her and sighed.

"This is why we want you at the school, kid. Mutants are better off there than a normal school," he said.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"At normal school, people stuff you in closets and threaten to kill you because you're a mutant. There, they stuff you in a closet and threaten to kill you because you ate the last snack cake. Much less violent," he said, smirking.

Ameila couldn't help but snicker.

"I knew that'd wipe that ugly look off of your face," he said.

She looked up to him to find him smirking.

"Oh, wait, that is your face," he said, grinning. She let out a laugh.

"You're so lame," she said, shaking her head.

"Yeah, that's what they say. C'mon, kid, go get your stuff," he said.

Ameila nodded and slid out of the chair. Logan stood and followed her out of the kitchen.

"You call me short?" Logan asked.

Ameila looked back at him. At the moment, he was an inch or so taller because of his shoes. Ameila figured they were the same height when flat foot. She jogged up stairs, Logan following behind her.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm short, too. I get it," she said.

When they reached the top of the stairs, she was surprised to see her sister come around the corner. They both gasped and jumped back, holding their hearts, but Amy hiccupped and shrunk.

Ameila sighed lightly. She stopped Logan as he reached the top of the stairs.

"Don't move," she said, her voice low.

"What is it?" he asked.

She pointed to the spot where Amy was.

"My sister," she said.

Logan just raised an eyebrow.

"Um, kid, I dunno how to break it to you, but there's nothing there," he said. He patted her head gently, "It's alright. We all go a little crazy now and then."

"Oh, shut up, will you? She shrank," she said.

Just then, Amy slowly grew back to her normal size. She shivered and sighed. Amy, like her sister, was pale with blue eyes. Her hair was a bright, natural red, like her mother's. Ameila glanced to Logan over her shoulder.

"Told you," she said, "Amy, this is Logan. Logan, this is my sister, Amy."

"Hey, there, kid," he said.

Amy smiled and headed downstairs. Ameila continued into her room. She picked up the two large suitcases full of her clothes and personal things and set them on the bed. She collected a few more things from around the room and put them in her back pack. There was a large cardboard box full of her bedding and her pillows. She folded the flaps of the box together to keep it closed and set it by the door.

"That's a lot of shit, kid," he said.

"I'm gonna be living there, Logan. I need my clothes," she said.

He only grumbled in response. Something along the lines of 'Females have too many clothes'.

She picked up the lighter suitcase and offered it to him.

"Oh, now you're just making me look like an ass," he said.

He picked up the bigger one and started to drag it out of the room. She followed with her backpack and the smaller suitcase.

She said good-bye to her parents, saying she would return in the morning for the last few things she needed and she left the house with Logan.

After stuffing her things in the car, they were off.

Despite her former feelings, Ameila felt as if she was going to a place she truly belonged.

Her new home.


	6. Welcome to the Grid

When they arrived at the mansion, they dragged her suitcases inside and started up the stairs.

"You have a roommate, by the way," Logan said over his shoulder at her.

Ameila sighed lightly. She didn't think about that. She wasn't looking forward to sharing a room with a stranger.

When they reached her room, Logan knocked on the door and waited. It opened reveal a young woman. She looked older than Ameila. She had a youthful, but mature look to her kind face. She was taller than both Ameila and Logan, but not by much, so her height wasn't intimidating. Her hair, which hung freely around her shoulders, was a brilliant red color. Her eyes were green, from what Ameila could tell in the light. She was of an average looking build and at the moment, wore regluar blue jeans and a pastel blue tank top.

"Hello, Professor Logan. What can I do for you? " she asked, smiling kindly.

"Hey, kid. You can start by backing up, please," he said.

When she moved, he went into the room, pulling Ameila's large suitcase behind him. He put it next to the second, bare bed. Ameila followed, setting her other bags and the box near the bed. She rubbed her hands together awkwardly.

"Ging', this is Ameila Wood. She's gonna be your new room mate," Logan said.

"Oh, cool, I finally have someone to keep me company!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"You girls have fun," and with that Logan left the room, closing the door behind him.

Ameila smiled awkwardly to 'Ging', as Logan called her, then looked around the room. Her side was done up with her own things, making it look quite cozy. Ameila's side was bare, looking empty and lonely. She opened the box full of her bedding and emptied the contents onto the bed. She made her bed, then took to unpacking her clothes, piling them up on the bed.

"My name's Georgia, by the way, but everyone calls me Ginger," she said.

Ameila looked to her. She was sitting on her bed now, her legs folded Indian style. She set a small pillow in her lap and smiled at her. Ameila nodded slowly and smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Ginger," she said.

"Nice to meet you, too, Ameila," she said, smiling.

Ameila continued to unpack her things and arrange them on the bed.

"So, Logan tells me that you control blood? Or is that like...an illusion?" Ginger asked, "You know, to scare people."

"No, it's not an illusion. I can control blood. I can manipulate flesh, too," Ameila said, fumbling with a small box of earrings she had taken from her suitcase. It fell and bounced under the bed. Luckily, she had taped it shut to prevent it from spilling in her suitcase.

She casually leaned down and took hold of the bed frame. She lifted it up into two legs and crouched down, picking up the box. She stood once again and gently set the bed down.

"And super strength comes with your package, I see," Ginger said.

Ameila laughed lightly and nodded.

"I'm spoiled by it, I think," she said, "If I ever lose my powers, I'll probably freak and die from a steroid overdose."

They both laughed lightly as Ameila continued to unpack. She started arranging things and putting them in the empty dresser provided for her.

"What can you do?" Ameila asked.

"Me? I'm sort of...generic, I suppose you could say. I have super strength, like you, and I can fly," she said, shrugging, "Because that's all I have going for myself, I'm learning how to use and manipulate a shield."

Ameila nodded. A shield sounded kind of cool. Perhaps she'd ask about learning how to use a shield, but for the moment, she continued to unpack. She made small talk with Ginger until they were called down for dinner.

Ameila snagged a place between Ginger and Peter, the Russian she had met a few days before. He gave her a pat on the back when she sat down.

"Gled to see you chenged you're mind," he said, smiling.

Ameila returned the small smile.

"Well, how could I turn it down, eh?" she said, not quite ready to talk about the incident at school. Though, she was sure most of them already knew by now.

She spotted Logan sitting some ways down the table, but she made no attempt to get his attention. She just kept quiet for the most part as the meal began. She ate in silence, listening, partially to other conversations. Not enough to really know what was being said, but enough to keep herself entertained for the time being. She mostly focused on her plate. It wasn't her mother's cooking, but it was still pretty delicious.

After dinner, Ameila ventured back up to her room. She still had some rearranging to do. She wanted to make her side of the room feel cozy, like Ginger's.

When she got into her room, she was surprised to see not only the window open, but an envelope on her bed. Her brow knit in confusion and she stepped up to her bed.

She picked up the envelope and looked at it. It had her name on it, written in fancy cursive. She turned it over and opened the flap. It was only tucked in, not sealed. She pulled a thick card out of the envelope. Her name was written again in fancy cursive on the card. There was a small arrow in the bottom right hand corner. She turned the card over.

Written on the back in the same, small fancy cursive writing, were the words 'Welcome to the Grid'.

Her brow wrinkled once more and she moved to the window. She looked out at the dark sky. Nothing. The night was still, quiet. She closed the window and turned. Ginger was coming into the room.

"Hey," she said as she headed for her bed.

"Hi, Ginger. ..Um..did you get one of these when you came here?" Ameila asked, walking over to her. She offered the card to her.

Ginger took it and turned it over in her hands, reading what little it said. She shook her head lightly.

"No, I didn't. Who gave it to you?" she asked.

"I don't know," Ameila said.

Ameila took the card back from Ginger and went to her bed. She picked up the envelope.

"I'm gonna go ask Logan," Ameila said.

She hurried out of the room and headed downstairs.

She wanted to know what it meant. She wanted to know who it was from. Most of all, she wanted to know what 'the grid' was. She hoped it was something good. But then again, if she's on some kind of grid, it couldn't be good. That meant she was marked. People would know who and what she was.

Ameila suddenly wished she'd stayed at home.


	7. The Invitation

A few weeks after receiving the mysterious message on her pillow, Ameila had yet to notice any changes. No more notes. No phone calls concerning it. Nothing.

She took it as a sign that nothing bad would happen after all and continued on with her new life at the Institute.

Schooling was going quite well. She was fitting in just fine with the other students she studied along side. She was doing well in most of her classes and she was keeping out of trouble. When it came to training and learning to use her powers, she was easily frustrated and often found herself falling behind. She had taken up the shield with Ginger's help, but she wasn't making too much progress. She just wasn't used to doing this. She was used to hanging in the back of the gym, avoiding catching a frisbee and only looking like she was participating.

One Saturday, she was avoiding doing anything other than lay around. She was hiding in her room, playing around on her laptop her parents had gotten her for Christmas the previous year. They said it was to help with school work, but she had yet to really use it for school work.

She stayed in her room until she was called for dinner.

Dinner was rather uneventful. There was food. There was conversation. There was Peter choking on a biscuit. Nothing too exciting.

When Ameila and Ginger returned to their room after dinner, they found the window open again. Ameila looked at Ginger and opened her mouth, but Ginger cut her short.

"Wasn't me," she said quickly.

Ameila walked over to the window and closed it. She turned around and looked to her bed. There was another envelope.

Her eyes went wide and she rushed over to it. She picked it up and ripped it open. Once again, it was a small card with tiny, fancy writing. Only this time, a picture fell out along with it. Ameila picked the picture up off of the bed and looked at it.

It was a picture of herself and her older brother. They sat next to each other, both holding their newborn baby sister in their laps. Ameila was only six then. Which meant he was ten years old.

She looked to the card, then, eager to know what it said.

'Meet me in front of the gates at midnight. -Ambrose'

Ameila nearly had a heart attack. She stared at the card, then took off for the door, scaring Ginger half to death. She whipped around corners, falling twice and ran so fast down the stairs, she forgot how to operate a staircase and had to jump the last 8 steps. She ran around like a headless chicken until she found Logan. He was in the garage, messing around with a motorcycle.

Ameila ran up to him, panting for breath. She leaned on her knees and waved the card and picture, trying to choke out words. All that came out was mindless babble. Logan stared at her like she was insane.

"Lemme guess. You've, once again, been welcomed to the grid. Honestly, kid, those aren't anything to be worried about," he sighed.

She sighed and took a deep breath. She shoved the card into his hand so he could read it.

"Ambrose? Who's Ambrose?" he asked.

Ameila then showed him the picture. Logan looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"You think it's your brother?" he asked. She nodded and straightened up.

"Yeah. I mean, how else would he get the picture?" she asked.

"Oh, there are a thousand ways someone could have gotten this," he said.

"Well, I still wanna go," she said. He nodded.

"I'll go with you," he said.

Ameila wanted to protest, but she decided against it. It was probably safer that he did. Who knew what could happen. But she had to know if it was true. She had to see him with her own eyes.

She wanted to see her brother.

That night, Logan and Ameila moved silently through the mansion and out the front doors. Ameila's heart pounded so hard in her chest, she feared it would explode. She hadn't told anyone else about this, under Logan's requests, but she so badly wanted to tell someone else. Keeping a secret like this was too much for a teenage girl to handle. She'd have to wait to tell someone.

They hurried across the grounds to the front gates. Logan opened them slowly.

"Yell if you need me," Logan said.

Ameila nodded and walked slowly out of the gate, clutching the picture and the card that was left for her.

"Ameila!" she heard.

She looked to her right to see a figure emerging from the shadows.

He was very tall. Much taller than her. He was of equal height with her father. His hair was black and rather long. It was tied in a low ponytail. From what she could see, his eyes were blue. He was the splitting image of her father. This was her brother. No doubt about it.

He wore a pair of dark black pants and black shoes. He wore a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It, too, was black. She figured he wore the dark colors to hide himself while he waited for her.

"Ambrose!" she said, rushing to him.

The siblings embraced and squeezed one another. They didn't let go for quite some time. When Ambrose finally broke the embrace, he smiled and held her ar arm's length.

"Well, you haven't gotten much taller since last we met, but you look so much different," he said. He brushed her bangs away from her face, "Blue hair?"

She laughed lightly.

"I like it. And mum and dad don't mind it. They think it's 'expressive'," she said.

"Sounds like them. How have they been?" he asked.

"Good. Like normal. Mum was...really upset after you left," she said, sighed lightly.

"I imagine she was," he said. He looked away from her eyes for a moment and a small smirk passed over his lips.

"Ambrose, why did you go? Where did you go? And why come back now?" she asked.

"The first two aren't important. I'm back to collect you, Ameila," he said.

"Collect me?" she asked.

Ambrose flashed a handsome smile that reminded Ameila of her father.

"To join us, of course," he said.

"Join who?" she asked.

"I've met a brilliant man. He has everything sorted out. He goes by the name of Magneto," he said.

Ameila wrinkled her nose, trying to think if she'd heard of him before.

"Ameila, he's granted me permission to come and offer you a chance to join us," he said, "Please join us. It would make me so happy if you did."

There was something about him. Something not right. As she stood there, looking into her eyes, she didn't see her brother. She saw someone else. She didn't like this person. The person that Ambrose had become.

"Ambrose, I'm staying here. I have a better future if I stay here," she said.

Ambrose straightened up, his eyes turning dark and mean.

"I was afraid you'd say that," he said, "For you see, baby sister, if you weren't going to join us, I was going to kill you."

Ameila gasped and took a step back. She started to turn, but it was too late.

She watched Ambrose raise both of his hands and flames erupted from them. They shot at Ameila with such speed, she had no time to react. She was knocked off her feet, letting out a shriek of terror.

As she lay on the ground, wiggling and swatting at her clothes, she noticed something odd.

The fire wasn't hurting her. It licked up her arms and covered her body like a strange blanket, but she felt nothing. No heat. No burn. Nothing. Not even her clothes were being burned. The picture and the card, which Ameila had dropped when she fell, burned quickly, as they should have. Was this a trick? Was Ambrose doing this? Was she? She had no idea what was going on. She decided to lay still, fearing the flames would stop teasing her and burn her for real.

They soon disappeared, leaving no evidence that they had been there at all. She pushed herself onto her elbows and looked up at her older brother. He looked livid.

"This isn't right. Something's not right," he growled.

As she looked over his face, everything she knew about him disappeared. He wasn't Ambrose anymore. She didn't know the man before her.

He tried once again to burn the flesh from her bones, but again, the fire never touched her. She laid still, her eyes clenched shut. She didn't want to see the flames. She didn't want to look at the man trying to kill her. The man that once swore never to let her out of his sight.

The bright flames left once more when she heard Ambrose cry out. She whipped open her eyes just in time to see Ambrose clutch a bloody arm and shoot off into the sky. Logan was standing in front of her, his claws gleaming in the moonlight. He turned, retracting his claws, and rushed to her.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, helping her to her feet. He looked over her body and dusted the dirt off of her back. Ameila nodded dumbly.

"I'm fine. I'm alright. I'm not hurt," she said, looking to the sky where last she saw Ambrose.

"Let's get you inside. We have to call your parents," he said.

Ameila nodded dumbly again and looked to the smoldering remains of the picture on the ground. She sighed and walked with Logan, hanging her head.

Ambrose was dead. There was nothing about that man that was her brother.

She just wished she could go back in time and change something. Anything. She wanted to go back and make it so he wouldn't end up like this. Like a crazy man.

She wished she could have her brother back.

* * *

Everything's been updated as of now, so I hope you've enjoyed it and I'll have a new chapter up asap :)


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